


Kiss Me Whole

by Valentia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Human Castiel, M/M, Season/Series 09, Sick Castiel, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentia/pseuds/Valentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is human. And just like every human even Castiel gets sick at some time. Good to know that in these cases there is a certain Dean Winchester, doing his best to make his former angel feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me Whole

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Kiss Me Whole](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/108153) by Valentia. 



> I'm back. :)  
> I wrote this story when I was sick some weeks ago, because the best thing an author can do if he or she's sick is to get inspired by that.  
> My next translation will probably be about Cas who has a new habit that... well... makes Dean feel... uncomfortable, to say the least. ;)  
> As everytime: Please tell me if you've found any mistakes of any kind. That would be very helpful.  
> So now enjoy this little story and leave some feedback or kudos if you have time. That would mean a lot. Thanks! <3

Dean had never thought that he would ever see a sick Castiel. It was bizarre. Cas was lying in the bunker on the quite small sofa in the living room, snuffling and shaking and holding his head once in a while because of a bad headache. It was an unfamiliar sight. Dean didn't know where the cold came from, but he did his best to help Cas, for he was human now and couldn't heal himself anymore. And Sam wasn't there either, because Ezekiel had disappeared in the morning after he had told Dean that there were still _things left to make clear._

“Dean?” Cas asked, looking up to Dean who was sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

His voice was nasal and sounded muffled through his blocked nose. He was wearing a hoodie of Dean, actually the only one Dean owned, but it fitted him perfectly. Dean had stretched a blanket over him and had made a tea which Cas had taken thankfully and drunk within a few minutes. Dean had had to take care of Sam several times as they had been kids and he had learned all he knew from his mother, but it seemed to help.

“Yeah?” Dean replied, taking a sip of his beer that he had put down next to him on the small table.

“I can only breathe through one nostril, Dean. Is that common for my current condition?”

Dean had to suppress a laughter.

“Very common, Cas. It will be over when we've put you back together.”

Cas still seemed a little skeptical but he trusted Dean. He lay back down on the sofa again, the blanket all up to his chin. Dean watched him as he closed his eyes, in his memories searching for something that could help his friend. He wouldn't give Cas any medicine. He himself hated taking tablets and he surely wouldn't do that to Cas. Cas groaned with pain, lifting one hand to his head, and Dean felt pity for his ex-angel. It surely had to be hard to be sick for the first time and not being able to do something about it.

Dean thought back on the times he had been sick and his mother had taken care of him. She had been stroking his hair all the time, comforting him and telling him that he'd be well the next day, although that usually hadn't been the case, but it had helped him. Then Dean remembered that he had always got to eat chicken soup, with noodles shaped as letters with whom he had formed his name on the edge of the soup plate before he had eaten them one after another.

Dean decided to cook a chicken soup for Cas, but he had to buy it first. He put on his jacket and grabbed the keys to Baby. Dean was about to leave the bunker when his gaze fell back on Cas who seemed to be sleeping. He thought that he should maybe leave a note or something, just in case Cas woke up, wondering where Dean was. Dean grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from yesterday's news paper and wrote down _Don't worry, I'll be right back. Stay here, Cas._ Then he left the bunker.

As Dean came back, Cas was still sleeping on the couch. He hadn't moved and Dean could still hear him breathe through one nostril. He went to kitchen and tried to figure out how he wouldn't screw up the soup. Not that he couldn't cook a damn canned soup, he had done it for Sam several times, but the only thought in his mind was that Cas deserved the best goddamn soup in the whole world.

Dean eventually went back to Cas with a steaming plate of soup, but he somehow felt bad about it because he had to wake Cas up, for sleeping was the best medicine after all, as his mother had always told him.

“Thanks, Dean”, Cas said, looking up to his friend and smiling shyly, as Dean handed him the plate.

He ate it slowly, but Dean watched him the whole time. He watched how Cas blew air at every spoon so that the soup wasn't too hot to eat, and he watched how Cas' body relaxed as the warmth fulfilled him. Cas didn't seem to be bothered by Dean's presence. Dean took the plate back to kitchen as Cas had finished. Then he sat down on the coffee table across from Cas, frowning. Cas looked better, but not good, and he could still see the sweat on his forehead and notice the heavy breathing and his pale face. Cas grabbed a tissue and blew his nose.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Dean asked.

“I don't know”, Cas said, holding his head with his hands and massaging his temple.

He leaned back against the armrest of the sofa, the pillow in his back, and sighed.

“Maybe kiss me?” he added, almost throwing Dean off track with his question.

Cas didn't seem to take it as Dean did. He didn't seem to notice the damn subtext in his question. Dean was just staring at him while Cas squinted and then lay down on the couch again.

“You want me to kiss you?” Dean asked, still staring at him like a car.

“If it helps.”

“No, it won't help, “ Dean answered, his voice a little bit louder than he had intended.

Cas frowned, looking up to Dean as if he kept all the secrets in the world.

“How do you know, Dean?”

“I just know, alright? It won't help you to get better. The soup helps and sleeping and not breaking your back, but kissing you won't help.”

Dean grabbed the beer bottle next to him and took a sip.

“But I have seen it. I have seen it so many times. Mothers and fathers kiss their children and you have also kissed Sam several times when he was sick, I could see it in your memories. Why do humans do it if it doesn't help, Dean?”

Dean sighed.

“Because we care about the people, not because it can cure them.”

“So you don't care about me?”

Suddenly Cas seemed frightened. Frightened of what the answer could be. And Dean even thought he'd hear some disappointment out of his voice. Disappointment that he didn't want to kiss Cas?

“Of course I care about you, man. How can you think I don't?”

“Then why won't you kiss me?”

“I just don't. It's different. It won't help after all, alright?!”

Dean's voice sounded determining and tolerated no dissent. But Cas seemed to dwell on that subject and now he was sitting on the couch again, intensely staring at Dean who just wanted Cas to stop asking, to let go of this ridiculous topic, for he knew he was about to lose.

“But, Dean, I don't under-”

And Dean kissed him. Not on his lips, not on his cheeks, but on his forehead. It was a soft and gentle kiss. He could feel Cas' hair tingling his nose and he could taste Cas' salty skin. Cas was relaxing again, lying back down on the couch, sighing. Dean followed him for a few inches until he let go of Cas, licking his lips and gazing down at Cas who seemed to be deeply contented.

“I told you it won't cure you, Cas, “ Dean said, drinking from his beer again to get Cas' taste off his lips.

“It helped, Dean. I feel... better... more comfortable. There is this huge warm feeling inside of me. I don't know what it means, but it is very pleasurable.”

Dean nodded, breathing hard until he put the bottle back on the table, running his hand over his face.

“Alright, fine. Now just go back to sleep, Cas. I'll watch over you.”

Dean was realizing right as he said it that these were the exact same words Cas had told him a long time ago. He expected Cas to frown, saying that he had done enough for him and that he should get himself some rest instead of sitting next to him and getting bored as hell, but instead he just nodded, mumbling something Dean couldn't understand and grabbing the blanket that had fallen down. Dean helped him and wrapped it around him and before he could even wink, Cas had already fallen asleep.

Dean gazed at him and sighed. But Cas really looked content. A tiny smile had followed him into his dreams and his hands firmly held the blanket at his chin. Dean grabbed his beer and sat down at the side of the big table where he could watch Cas. It was still very... unfamiliar seeing Cas sleep, covered in a blanket and wearing the only hoodie he owned. But it was quite a peaceful sight and he thought that, maybe, Cas had never looked happier than right at that moment.

Dean didn't leave the room for as long as Cas was asleep. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd eaten for the last time, but he didn't care. He feared that he would just miss something if he went to the kitchen or on a walk, something very important. He wanted to be right there when Cas woke up, just to see his blue eyes open, see him frown and rub his face and then look up to find his glance meeting Dean's.

Dean had nearly finished the book he was reading when Cas woke up. He put the book aside, moving towards the couch and sitting down on the coffee table again.

“Had nice dreams?” Dean asked and Cas didn't seem to be fully awake yet.

“Yes, I guess,” he said, taking a tissue and blowing his nose.

“Anything else you need or want?”

Cas shook his head. Dean ignored the fact that he began to sound like a worried mother and instead thought of the shy kiss and how absolutely at peace with the world and himself Cas had seemed to be.

“Really nothing? CasaErotica is on channel two,” Dean said, pointing to the TV with his head.

“I don't think that having an orgasm will help me right now,” Cas replied and Dean shrugged.

“Fine. But what else?”

Cas' eyes grew wider as a small smile crept on his face.

“Kiss me again.”

Dean sighed.

“Oh dude, I told you it won't help. No matter how often I do it. It won't get your ass back together.”

“But I _feel_ it, Dean.”

Dean kept quiet. So, a _huge warm feeling_ , huh? Well, Dean couldn't say that he didn't _want_ to kiss Cas again, he just knew he shouldn't. But Cas indeed was right, wasn't he? It was because he cared about him, cared about his former angel and wanted to make him feel comfortable. There was no subtext in there, was there? He had kissed Sam as well. It was the same thing. He was just nervous because it was a whole new situation, having a sick ex-angel.

“Alright,” Dean said, leaning forward to kiss Cas on his cheek.

But unfortunately Cas was turning his head at the wrong moment and before Dean could stop his movement, he was kissing Cas. On his mouth. And their lips met. And all Dean could discern was Cas sighing against his lips and his arms getting covered with goosebumps and his breath getting faster and Cas' lips being so unnaturally hot and soft.

Dean forced himself to get some distance between them and he ended up sitting on the coffee table, staring at Cas with wide opened eyes and an open mouth, his gaze darting back and forth between Cas' shining blue eyes and his lips _that had just been lying on his own milliseconds ago._

Cas was staring back, obviously surprised and not able to take his look off Dean. His heart was pounding fast and for a brief moment he had forgotten that he was still sick, sitting on the small sofa in the Winchesters' bunker, a human after all. There had just been Dean and the feeling of their lips pressed together that had made him feel as if he'd never been sick at all.

“I'm sorry, Dean,“ he said after a while, his hands clutching the blanket on his legs. “I didn't mean to... I just wanted to say something. I didn't know that you would kiss me again that fast. My apologies.”

Dean nodded absently. He couldn't think of anything else than Cas' lips on his own and that _huge warm feeling_ in his chest, making his heart beat faster and his thoughts almost disappear.

“No, no, I get it,” he said eventually. “I mean, it wasn't bad. NO, I mean it doesn't matter. I mean, yeah, so, do you feel better?”

Cas was nodding very slowly, not looking up to Dean until he began to speak.

“I think so. Yes, Dean. That special feeling is still very pleasurable. It is a pity that it is already subsiding and just leaves that bizarre tingling inside of me, but I don't think that this is bad either.”

Dean was hearing every word Cas said, but he wasn't fully able to figure out what they meant. But what he knew was that he felt the same way. That crazy tingling inside of him, that warm feeling that slowly abated and that made him want to kiss Cas again. And again. And maybe again after that.

“I hope you're not mad at me,” Cas said shyly, but Dean could never be mad at Cas, not for causing that kind of feeling inside of him.

“I'm not mad at you, Cas. I'm just... surprised.”

Cas' cheeks were slightly red and his feet were nervously moving across the floor now.

“Dean, can I ask you something? And I want you to be honest with me.”

Dean ran his hand over his face, nodding.

“Yeah, sure, man.”

“Did you like it?”

Cas had tilted his head and he squinted as if he wanted to figure out the answer without being in need to actually hear it from Dean. There were two thoughts in Dean's mind. One was _fuck_. And the second one was _fuck everything_. Dean wasn't quite sure which thought and which urge connected to them dominated.

“Because, Dean, I just wondered if there is any chance that you would do it again? That you would kiss me again? Because I really think it helps me. I really think it sets me up.”

Dean decided that the second thought definitely was the better choice.

“Everything to get the ex-angel about, right?”

Then he leaned forward and kissed Cas, this time fully aware of it. And it was a lot better than the first time. That very special feeling overcame him like a huge wave and it felt everything but wrong. Cas' lips were still so hot and soft and Dean enjoyed every second they met his own. He had closed his eyes, feeling that Cas was holding his breath. Dean hoped that Cas knew that he couldn't hold his breath forever as a human.

Still it was only a timid kiss, and Cas let go of Dean very quickly. Then he got up and Dean did the same. Almost immediately Cas hogged him again; it was much easier, now that they were standing. Dean could easily wrap his arms around Cas and was quickly feeling how Cas laid a hand on his neck, pulling him closer. Cas' other hand had found its way to Dean's left arm and Dean already meant to feel how it was leaving a scar on him again.

Dean started moving his lips against Cas' and Cas came to meet him. He meant to hear and feel how Cas was sighing his name, and once more goosebumps were covering his arms. Then Cas' tongue nudged against his lips and Dean slightly opened his mouth. Cas' tongue was outspoken and his fingers were clinging to Dean's hair and his shirt, but Dean didn't have the smallest problem with that. His hands were stroking all over Cas' back and even through his hoodie he could feel the warmth of Cas' body.

“Cas, dude, slow down, or do you want me to be sick tomorrow?” Dean said and Cas let go of him, breathing heavily and his chest pressed against Dean's.

“It is helping, Dean, it is _truly_ helping. And if you should be sick tomorrow, I will simply kiss you until you don't feel sick anymore.”

Cas kissed him again and Dean thought that his suggestion didn't even sound that bad. Their kisses had changed from an innocent _I want you to feel well_ to a not quite that innocent _I want to kiss you until you can't stand on you own two feet anymore_ a long time ago, but no one was bothered about that. It was different, kissing Cas, different than with all the other women. Cas was nearly as tall as him and Dean could clearly feel his stubble scratching over his chin. The feeling was overwhelming and Dean kept asking himself why they hadn't tried that years ago, for it was feeling really _awesome._

Cas could kiss damn well considering the fact hat he hadn't gained much experience yet. Dean was enjoying it to the fullest. He loved the feeling of Cas' body pressed against his as if it was predetermined and Cas' hands in his hair. Eventually Cas pulled him closer again, but this time with a huge jerk so that Dean was stumbling forward, tripping both of them up. He lost balance and fell onto the sofa, Cas right beneath him. Dean immediately wanted to stand up and make room for Cas, but Cas didn't dream of letting Dean go, so he quickly grabbed his arm again, pulling him back down and on his lap.

“I am still feeling kind of sick, Dean. I don't think that we have already kissed enough.”

Dean had to suppress a laughter; Cas really seemed to believe that kissing could cure him. Dean probably should have explained it to him, but for the moment it was just feeling too good to kiss Cas again and again and pin him on the sofa with his weight; and so he decided to, at least for some time, go on with playing their little game. After some minutes Cas began to choppily move beneath Dean and Dean pulled away.

“What's up?” he asked, in need to hold himself back to not eat Cas alive.

Cas looked down between the two of them and Dean didn't know if he should laugh or just be ridiculously turned on.

“I would like to get back to your offer, Dean, referring to the possible orgasm, but in a slightly different form.”

It was really hard for Dean to fully let go of Cas, and Cas himself didn't seem to be very content either, but Dean's common sense told him that he had to stop right at that point.

“When you're up and about again,” Dean said, trying desperately not to stare at Cas' boner.

“But I thought that the kissing would help.”

“Not really, Cas, sorry, man. Being human sucks.”

Cas sighed, frowning. His expression became sad.

“Yes, I have already ascertained that.”

Dean sensed that something wasn't right and laid a hand on Cas' shoulder.

“Hey, we're gonna manage this. Not everything is bad. There are some pretty cool things, too.”

“Like sex?” Cas asked.

“What the hell just happened to the angel with the damn stick up his ass?” Dean said, grinning, while Cas was just shaking his head in amusement. “No, seriously, I mean it. First we'll fix you and then I'm gonna show you the bright side of being human.”

Cas was looking up to Dean now, surveying him. Dean lifted his eyebrows and Cas tilted his head again.

“And you are sure that kissing will certainly not cure me?”

“Pretty sure, Cas. Now just go back to sleep.”

“You are the human-expert,” Cas eventually replied after he had lain down on the sofa again.

Dean ran his hand through Cas' hair, kissing him for the last time.

“You're gonna be alright tomorrow, you'll see,” he said and Cas nodded.

Dean should be right at that; Cas really was better the next day. But needless to say he had infected Dean. Dean cursed him for that right at the moment he woke up, only able to breathe through one nostril. But he immediately forgave Cas as he began to take care of him.

And Cas took _really_ good care of Dean.


End file.
